


last first kiss

by timelordswillwasteyou



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 15:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14288394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordswillwasteyou/pseuds/timelordswillwasteyou
Summary: Stranded in a broken and rapidly freezing Kataphrakt, Slaine and Inaho share their final confessions and moments with each other.





	last first kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Unknown Land](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5256209) by [paperballoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperballoon/pseuds/paperballoon). 



> first of all, I'm sorry for killing them, but I've had this idea in my head forever and I had to get it out. loosely inspired by a couple of chapters of paperballoon's [The Unknown Land](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5256209/chapters/12127961), which I won't give anything away about since you should go read that if you haven't already (though you don't need to have read it for this to make sense).

“I can’t believe I’m…going to…die here. There’s…so much I…haven’t done,” Slaine whispered, voice so quiet that even the silent puffs of air his breath makes against the frigid air seem to be louder, seem to echo around the cockpit of the ruined Kataphrakt. Inaho watches the puffs condense into nothingness, thinks of the physics behind the phenomenon – anything to distract him from the fact that they are both about to die. His attention is drawn back to the blond boy huddled next to him when he continues, “There’s so much…I haven’t experienced.”

“Slaine. You should try not to speak. Keeping your mouth closed will conserve moisture and heat.” Inaho recognizes the irony of opening his own mouth to say this, but Slaine simply laughs, the sound coming out forced and sad.

“It doesn’t...matter, anymore. It would just be...delaying the inevitable. Besides, I don’t fancy you…dying before me…I don’t want to…cuddle with a…a dead body, after all.” Slaine sniffles, his nose red with cold – at least it’s not pale with frostbite, Inaho thinks – and tucks his face into Inaho’s neck. Inaho shivers, though he feels quite warm (the first stages of death by hypothermia, his mind informs him: feeling warm, although he expects it has less to do with that and more to do with the warmth of Slaine’s body curled against his side. He tightens his arm around the boy at the thought, though the response is illogical; he figures Slaine’s right, it won’t matter much longer, and anyway, wasn’t the point of this position to share body heat?). Nose pressed snugly into the junction of Inaho’s neck and jaw, Slaine mumbles something lowly, and then his face heats as if he’s blushing.

“What was that?” he asks. Slaine's voice was muffled, and Inaho only caught snippets, things like 'never' and 'sun.'

Slaine shifts his head so his voice isn’t as muffled and repeats, “I never got to see the ocean again. Never got to feel the sun warm my skin in the way it only can on Earth,” and then, quieter, “I never even got to kiss anyone.” He turns back and buries his face somewhere near Inaho’s collarbone.

Inaho freezes. He tries to look down at Slaine, but he’s hidden his face again. Inaho feels flushed despite the chill. He is at a loss for words. He hasn’t ever really had the desire to kiss someone, so he can’t really relate to Slaine’s words, but…he looks down again, feels Slaine’s grip on him tighten and the blond’s face warm again, imagines his red lips and his graceful fingers gripping Inaho’s body; and maybe he has desired it after all, or perhaps his mind is just muddled by the grip of the freezing air, but he finds himself whispering, “Would you like to?”

Slaine raises his head to look at Inaho, his eyes wide with unspoken questions, and Inaho adds, unnecessarily, “With me. Would you like to with me?” His voice sounds strange to his own ears. The question hangs in the air. They are very close; Slaine is staring at his mouth, and when he nods, Inaho lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and leans forward.

He has never kissed anyone before, but when Slaine meets him halfway and captures Inaho’s bottom lip between his own, he feels some kind of instinct take over. His pushes forward, parting his mouth slightly and taking Slaine’s with it, and he has to hold back a soft moan at the feeling even as Slaine lets out a contented sigh and weaves his fingers into Inaho’s hair.

Slaine pulls back, his face staying close. Inaho feels overheated. His heart beats very fast, and Slaine’s breath is coming out in short pants, physically visible in the cold air. His hand comes up to cup Slaine’s sharp jaw without his mind making the conscious decision to do so. “Slaine. Was that – “

“Yes,” he breathes, lifting his eyes from Inaho’s lips to meet his eyes. “It felt…” His face flushes red - Inaho feels it under his palm - and one side of his mouth tips up into a half-smile. Inaho’s heart reacts to the sight by beating out of control. He thinks that Slaine can probably feel it, if not hear it. It's ironic, that he's never felt more alive before, and it happens when he is about to die. Slaine’s eyes flicker back down. “Inaho…”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice; he leans forward to capture Slaine’s lips again, this time not hesitating before sliding his fingers into long, silky hair. He tilts his head a bit, trying to calculate the perfect angle, and this time their lips slot together perfectly. He tugs a little at the hair falling at the nape of Slaine’s neck; he lets out a breathy moan into Inaho’s mouth and pushes closer.

Inaho doesn’t know how long they stay there, locked together and exploring each other’s mouths, hands roaming through hair and down to necks and chests. He doesn’t understand why this feels as right as it does, especially since he usually assigns little value into such intuitive feelings. But through the haze of pleasure washing over him from touching Slaine like this, he keeps having the impossible thought that he wishes they weren’t about to die because he’d like to do this again with him, some time. It is silly, wanting to live just so he has more time to kiss Slaine, to discover what makes him gasp and push his body against Inaho’s, what makes him giggle through the kiss (giggle even despite their circumstances; Slaine truly is an enigma, but a wonderful one, Inaho thinks), what makes him sigh contentedly and go pliant beneath him. But even as their kisses slow and they both tire, as they transition to mostly just gazing dazedly at each other and dipping in for the occasional slow press of lips; even as Inaho feels his body go weak and limp with hunger and cold (even though he feels warm, so warm) and feels Slaine’s do the same, he thinks, desperately, that he wouldn’t have minded spending his life with someone as brilliant and beautiful as this boy to whom he's just given his first and last kiss.

He is smiling as he feels one last cold press against his mouth, and then nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> ...and they die smiling, lips still touching lightly. the mental image both gives me life and kills me 
> 
> if it makes you feel better, if I get inspired and write a second part, they'll be miraculously rescued and not dead, so there's that. anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, even though it's both self-indulgent and self-destructive on my part.


End file.
